This week’s challenge is to write from the perspective of an inanimate object…

It has been nearly three years since I came to live in this place. A dull if not particularly strenuous existence in a room of stainless steel and laminex and timber. There is a window, beyond which the flowing tendrils of spring wave merrily in the breeze.

I’m usually called to action just twice a day — although I think perhaps our relationship is not a monogamous one. Not on her part, at least. I do the best job I can, truly. But sometimes my best is just not good enough.

I love it when the switch is flicked and heat suffuses my body. For less than a minute I’m glorious, triumphant, essential. At such moments I let myself be satisfied by my purpose and revel in my function. Then I am switched off again and abandoned until next I am needed.

Despite my yearning for greater occupation, I am proud of my role and will continue to perform it to the best of my ability. I do not believe I am in danger of being superseded . . . Surely she couldn’t? . . . Wouldn’t.

I must strive for greater perfection.

***

Can you guess what my mystery object is? I daresay you can! I’ll add a picture to help you. 😉

Clever post, Ellen. Called to action twice a day? The suspicion that there’s not an entirely monogamous relationship (as it watches you head out the door to the cafe with grin on your face)? Heat suffusing through it? After weighing all the crafty clues, I’m going to guess that it’s your coffee pot. 🙂